Chara's Breakfast
by GamingYugi27
Summary: Getting breakfast is a process that can't be done alone for Chara, she needs help from a loved one to get her breakfast without cameramen and paparazzi.
**UNDERTALE IS OWNED BY TOBY FOX, NOT ME!**

 **NOTES BEFORE READING: In general, I think of Chara and Frisk as both girls, and Monster Kid as a boy. This story contains the shipment of Charisk. (Hope you know what that means.) In this story, Frisk and Chara are adults. NO LEMONS. So if ya' don't like my opinions and you don't wanna read this… you don't have to.**

 **Chara's Breakfast**

Chara awoke abruptly. Darkness flooded her small room. Chara turned to her alarm clock. The digits on it glowed red: 4:18. Still a few more hours of sleep left. Chara however, was feeling more hungry than tired.

Chara slid into her grey slippers, and made sure her green and yellow striped nightgown was strung tightly around her waist, in case of worse case scenario (That meant perverts). Chara walked slowly down the hall, and into the semi-large kitchen of the house. Chara retrieved the butter from the fridge, and a plain old butter knife out of the silverware drawer.

Chara slid two slices of cheap white bread into the silver toaster, and pushed the lever down. The quiet hum of the toaster began as Chara grabbed a large carton of milk and placed it on the counter. She opened the cabinet, which protested with a squeal. She grabbed one of the three, pure, clear, glass cups, and poured milk in it. The milk was a centimeter away from the brim as she set the milk back down. She set the cup on the counter with a clink, and brought the milk back to the fridge with a thud.

"Bottoms up…" Chara whispered to herself as she chugged the entire glass. She put the cup down with a sigh. All of a sudden, the toaster gave the usual noise of the spring releasing, and now the two pieces of bread sat, golden brown and perfect in the toaster.

Chara snatched the pieces and set them on a ceramic plate. The moment the clean, smooth butter knife sliced into the creamy butter, a voice rang out through a megaphone, out on Chara's lawn. "Hey Chara! Show is a killer pose with that knife!" Then, her kitchen began filling with flashes of cameras and flashlights. Chara looked around, her heart thudding at the sudden surprise. Chara knew she should have felt flattered, but instead… she cried softly. She was standing in the center of a crowd, in a nightgown and slippers, holding a butter knife. "I'm just trying to make some toast!" she said as she pushed passed a guy in a tank-top, who was holding a camera. All of the cameramen, and some random people let out an 'aww' at this.

The cameramen started to follow her to her room, but thought better of it to back off when she slammed her door and locked it. Chara leaned against her door until she heard fading footsteps. Then, a voice sounded from the kitchen. "Well, ya' can't let perfectly good toast go to waste!" So much for having breakfast. Chara waited for the the house to empty except for the person who had 'special permission' to stay with Chara, but slept across the hall.

That person's door opened, then a few seconds later, closed again. Chara loved hearing that sound for some strange reason. She wished that person would just open Chara's door, and tell her everything would be alright without a couple pieces of toast. Then, Chara's eyelids began to grow heavy. Despite the hunger, Chara just wanted to wait at the door.

XXX

Chara woke up to light, streaming through her window. It took her no time at all to realize she was sitting at her door. Chara looked around before she got up, and noticed a post-it note, folded in half, sitting under the door. Chara opened it to read the familiar scrawls of red pen that read; Breakfast time. At the end of the note was a small, heart.

Chara entered the kitchen to see it all lighten up by beautiful, natural sun light. On the clothed table was a ceramic plate with a serving of bacon, scrambled eggs, and toast. Next to the plate, was a bar of chocolate. Chara looked up to see, standing at the stove, the familiar clean locks of brown, smooth, shoulder length hair that belonged to only one person.

Chara sat at her plate and stared hungrily at the toast. A familiar human sat at the other end, clasped her hands together, and gave Chara a wide smile. Chara looked up, and was glad to see Frisk and her shining face. Chara however, was hungry for food, and not love. (Not LOVE either.)

And this cycle happens every week, to this day.


End file.
